How can I put a word, to what excites my muse? For what inspires me, might be to her, a ruse. With each tear of pain, she writes but of hope; she writes but a future, how with pain, to cope. With each smile of joy, she writes of its cause, when inspiration sings, I … Read moreCompleting life..
I know why I was silent, silent all these days; for whenever I did try, it went to unwanted ways. What happened was wrong, but I forgot good times, when we had but sweetness, just remembered sour limes. I did have my own reasons, each were right, I knew; but what did turn to faux, … Read moreSaying the unsaid..
A question I ask myself now, Have I really been a true friend? If so, can I tell, to what end? No, a doubt still remains somehow. I feel your presence, yet I feel alone, hear the still silence, till it is echoes, your sound far away, Where am I today? Your company you do … Read moreQuestioning myself